


IKEA

by astudyinperiwinkle



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Chair Sex, Drabble, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:33:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astudyinperiwinkle/pseuds/astudyinperiwinkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes being obedient is a lot like being a bitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	IKEA

The wooden chair creaked and groaned in complaint under the combined weight of us. It was sturdy enough; simple, thick, but definitely intended for one. I was pretty sure it would hold but for how hard my feet were pushing off the horizontal braces, it sounded as if it would give at any second. SHIELD was generous enough to furnish the apartment but there was no way I would requisition a new chair because this one broke during sex. I’d have to buy the replacement myself or risk a serious and uncomfortable talk with Director Fury who still had no clue who I shared my bed, and chair, with.

Under me, Loki was slouched back against the rounded planks of the chair back, looking up with that smug look he got when he was thoroughly enjoying himself. With his dark hair tousled, those pale eyes glassy, and a flattering splash of color across his cheeks, he appeared so tangible, so human compared to his usual unflappable self. And he was always so damned domineering, it was a nice moment that he was letting me do the real work for once.

But no sooner did the thought occur that his hands reached up and wrapped around the sides of my chest, pushing me to lean back while he effortlessly lifted my weight for more vertical distance It wasn’t a trust issue that I wouldn’t do a good a job, he trusted me in his own unspoken way, it was more like a control issue of simply being incapable of letting someone else take charge for very long. Or at all, it sometimes felt. And it was doubly insulting considering how rarely I was allowed to take the lead. From my perspective, I‘d been doing just fine without assistance.

“Don’t move,” I commanded breathlessly, prying his hands off of my sides and resting them limp on my thighs still working up and down in steady rhythm.

An eyebrow curled up his flushed forehead. His head tilted and he leaned forward with the look of a blatantly disobedient child about to break another rule. Whatever he was attempting to do to rile me up, no way was I going to let him follow through with it. I shoved him back against the chair hard enough to make the wooden frame squeak in distress.

“I said don’t move.”

Smug melted into mischievous. “Yes, sir,” he murmured. I paid no mind to his sarcastic jab towards my military title. Reacting would only feed his ego, and that was a beast likely to bite the hand the that feeds. 

Keeping a grip on his shoulders, I picked up the pace and ignored the noisy chair and the earliest signs of fatigue creeping into my legs. My toes and the arches of my feet were being cut into by the braces with each push but it didn’t matter. It would be worth it. I closed my eyes and let the pain become motivation to see this all the way to the end. His end first, if possible.

My palms were sweaty from our combined heat so I held on tighter to his shoulders before I lost my leverage. The angles of his collarbone fit against the joints of my thumbs and I didn’t doubt we would both feel bruised after this.

Personal experience taught me, demi-god though he may be, it wasn’t as if he was impervious to pain. I opened my eyes and looked down at him to make sure I wasn’t hurting him too badly only to discover he hadn’t moved at all. Not one single inch. He was still watching me with the same defiant smile painted on his mouth. Of course he’d followed my instructions to the letter. He had literally stopped all movements beyond breathing. Believable but still maddening.

Even as I moved as hard and fast on him as I could, his composure was rock solid. He was biding his time until I exhausted myself then he’d have some sort of revenge on me that would leave me sore for hours and half catatonic, just like last week. I knew better now, though, and two could play at this battle of wills.

I eased myself down fully onto his lap where I sat stubbornly. One hand meshed into his hair for a good handful to force his head back, to which he offered no resistance. My other hand slid around the firm curve of his neck and I kissed him with everything I had. His smiling lips didn’t move to receive mine but they didn’t try to stop me either. He let it happen, and there was a sort of electric tension as he made efforts not to move. He liked kissing as much as I did and he was making a show of pretending he didn’t enjoy it.

Not to be out-witted, I started making noises in my throat as I pressed my stomach against his, winding my hips slowly, brushing my thighs along his. Every hot exhale I pushed into his mouth. The hand around his neck pushed down his back as I hooked my elbow around the slope of his shoulder to pull even tighter against him. I groaned his name as I used my ankles around the chair legs to pull my hips forward, shifting my balance and crushing all of my weight against his groin.

The hands laying placid on my legs twitched.

And I knew I had him.


End file.
